Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
All it took was a glance down from my camper doorway to spot it.
On the dirt-packed ground had been an itty-bitty body covered in matted black fur that looked wet. The lump had made a sweet cry right at that moment that I felt in my bones.
I’d jumped to the ground and crouched in front of it. The wetness was something that looked more like gel than water, I’d realized as I’d wedged my hand beneath the body and lifted it, thankful for my near-perfect night vision. Crust-covered eyes were set above the smallest nose I’d ever seen.
“Oh my god, you’re a baby,” I had cooed in surprise. I’d felt its fragile bones and its scrawny little chest raggedly rising and falling as the four-legged creature learned how to breathe right in my hand.
A newborn baby—not a dog, I’d been able to sense that, at least not any kind of normal dog that I knew. And as I’d cradled it to my chest, this innocent life too young and defenseless to take care of itself, I had raised my head and looked around. My heart was back to beating so fast.
I saw it then, in the distance of the chaparral landscape. Two bright red eyes.
“Care for him,” the silky, tired voice commanded in my head.
“What?” I had squawked like it hadn’t been the middle of the night and a powerful magical being capable of telepathy hadn’t been communicating with me and I wasn’t surrounded by people who didn’t know about how true folklore was. I’d glanced down at the baby that fit into the palm of my hand before raising my gaze to meet the two eyes moving further away by the second.
She was backing up.
It was its mother. I would’ve bet my life on it.
She howled so deep, long, and loud, there was no way anyone who knew anything about animals would ever believe it was from a coyote.
As I gulped, futilely waiting for an explanation that was never going to come, bright red eyes winked out of view… and the glow of power disappeared.
The fuzzy, wet creature in my hand had let out another newborn-sized whimper.
With the full moon overhead, I stood there for a very long time, hoping the creature would come back for her baby.
But she never did.
Chapter
Five
I swept my hand down Duncan’s back as he yawned. I’d only told this story twice before, but he knew it. “That was a little over two years ago, and we’ve been together ever since,” I wrapped up our first meeting, impressing myself. I couldn’t have explained that any simpler or to the point.
The learning curve I’d experienced afterward—having to figure out how to feed a newborn magical creature, how to clean him, teach him how to be alive—all belonged to me. I’d share those stories if they wanted. It didn’t seem like they did based off the silence that followed our meet-cute. Him being the cute and me being the “meet” part.
“To make sure I understand,” the man with the glasses said after a long, loaded moment, “you didn’t see who spoke to you?”
I shook my head. “All I saw were red eyes in the distance. We stayed there for a month, but she never came back.” At some point, I had gone from hoping and praying Duncan’s mom would come back to dreading she would. His little nose bumped my inner wrist, those ruby eyes peering at me through his curly eyelashes.
I wasn’t sure what it said about me that I hoped she never returned. And if she did? I couldn’t even think about it, so I didn’t.
“You never met the mother before?” Glasses asked after another minute, his expression watchful.
Too watchful.
“Not that I know of.” There wasn’t a doubt in my mind she had something that dampened her magic like we did, not after the way I’d felt her and then hadn’t. Obsidian wasn’t hard to get. Some versions of it were more expensive than others, but it wasn’t astronomically priced. Most people just didn’t care enough to hide themselves. But if I packed the kind of punch she did? I’d have five bracelets on me at all times, and I’d rob a bank to afford them.
“Does the child speak?”
“Not verbally,” I answered. “He understands language. Soon after he… changed, he started being able to speak to me, to tell me yes and no, telepathically. We communicate as well as I could with a toddler, but he’s more well-behaved, and he’s potty trained. He’s more mature than a normal two-year-old.” He was perfect, dead food habits not counting.
That got me an unexpected lazy lick on my wrist that made me smile. He was so freaking cute.
“His form at the moment… that’s how you met him, and he’s stayed this way since?”
He meant the fact he looked like a black hound puppy, except for his red eyes and the blue flame at the tip of his tail.